Liquid Confessions
by brookeAp3
Summary: They say alcohol speaks the truth. In the missing year Regina and Robin find that's the only way they can truly admit the feelings budding for each other within them.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: For OQ Prompt Party. #** **173 Robin gets drunk and tells John he thinks he's falling in love with the evil queen**

What is it about those scowls that causes heat to burn in his belly, spreading out through his limbs, singing in his veins?

It makes absolutely no bloody sense. The woman has shown not an ounce of anything but annoyance and contempt toward him since the moment their paths first crossed. In fact, as their acquaintance has grown, as he and his men have begun working with the Queen and Prince and Princess to defeat the Wicked Witch, the hostility has only worsened.

Perhaps it's because Robin can see beneath the haughty mask she portrays to the world. Sees the hurt and broken woman who is grieving her son more than any mother should ever have to. He has witnessed her various moments of what Regina would surely consider weakness (though Robin merely thinks of as strength) over the course of the last several months, however unintentionally. She would never admit to it, of course, and only grows more fearsome with each one.

Just this afternoon when they'd ended up on patrol together, she'd threatened him with a fireball to the face, followed by a warning that she'd rip his heart from his chest if he didn't shut his peasant mouth when he'd commented that she'd looked a bit tired and inquired as to whether or not she was sleeping well enough. He knows she'd meant to intimidate him with her empty threats. Only they are just that. Empty.

Robin doesn't fear her.

Doesn't believe he ever could. Evil Queen she may have been, but Robin has seen _Regina_ within that woman and that is the person that fascinates him. Something about her touches him.

Maybe that's it, the reason that she pushes him away so insistently. This… _pull_ he feels toward her. It's a fierce and persistent tugging on his heart that he doesn't understand in the slightest. But it's there and it's strong. Surely she must feel it, too. The depth of the confusing emotions can't all be one sided. And despite the barbs and insults she throws his way, Robin wants her.

Even now, as she scowls at him from across the dining hall, tossing repulsed glances his way in between bits of conversation with Snow White, Robin can only think of what her lips might taste like. How much he would like to catch her in a quiet moment and press his lips over her skin, to skim his hands over those tempting dips and curves that haunt his dreams.

Still their interaction earlier has him a bit unsettled, worry and confusion swirling within his gut. It's how he's found himself here, drowning what he can of his feelings in tankard after tankard of ale. Not the most responsible of ways to spend the evening, especially with a wicked witch on the loose, intent on ruining their happy endings, but he's already done his duty for the day. He has nothing but his son to worry over and Roland is safely tucked away in bed for the evening. Sweet and content in dreamland.

It leaves far too much time for his thoughts. There must be a way he can get through to her. To sneak his way, like the thief she loves reminding him that he is, around those towering walls that protect her heart. Robin wants nothing more than to soothe the broken woman that hides behind them, aches with the need to comfort her. It's yet another aspect to their relationship and his reaction to her that he doesn't quite understand.

He swallows a healthy gulp of the mildly bitter liquid and wishes it were something stronger, anything that might settle his emotions for awhile. What the hell is this woman doing to him?

A voice in his ear startles Robin from his musings.

"What did you do to piss her off now?" John asks, leaning down from behind him to mutter as he rounds the table, taking his place across from Robin after returning with a fresh plate of food. A stray thought about John and the buffet table that sounds distinctly of Regina flickers through his mind and he takes a quick sip of ale to wash it away.

Lord help him, but he's mad for the woman.

With more than a little effort, Robin drags his gaze from Regina across the room and meets John's questioning expression as he digs into a turkey leg with his teeth. "What do you mean?"

Jerking his head in the direction of the royal table, John grunts, "The queen. She's looking at you like she's contemplating how your head might look on a spike."

A common occurrence, honestly. Regina gives him that look at least once a day. With a sigh, Robin lifts the pitcher between them on the table, pours a steady stream of ale, refilling his glass to the brim and taking another long sip before he finally admits, "I am afraid I may have offended her majesty earlier."

John chortles, chewing for a moment before commenting, "Well, that's not a difficult thing to do. Damned pain in the ass, she is."

Robin chuckles a bit at that, realizing he's a bit drunker than he realizes as he takes yet another drink from his tankard. No point in stopping now. The ale swirls around in his stomach, loosening his tongue and before Robin can consciously realize what he's saying, he murmurs quietly, "Yes, but an exquisite pain."

His gaze is back on Regina and he admires the exposed column of her neck, down to the open bodice of her gown and the rather _generous_ amount of cleavage on display. Desire strikes him sharply and he feels his skin heat. Whether from passion, embarrassment, or the alcohol, Robin knows not, but whatever the cause, he wishes yet again she would let him get close to her.

He will find a way, Robin resolves. No matter how long it takes, how often she threatens him, he won't give up on her, on doing whatever he can to help her heal. There's a pang in his heart, as if he simply _knows_ that's what he's meant to do, his purpose in regards to the queen. And Robin is nothing if not a loyal servant to those he cares for.

The clearing of John's throat draws Robin's gaze from Regina back to his best friend sitting across from him, and he frowns at the puzzled expression on the other man's face. "What?"

One large, bushy eyebrow lifts as he watches Robin, but says nothing for a moment. He rips a hunk of bread from the portion of the loaf in his hand and chews quietly until he eventually comments, "Your face. You're looking at the queen as if you've never seen a woman before."

The alcohol in his blood pumps fiercely, making him brave. This is his closest friend, the man he would trust with not only his own life, but with his son's. Robin glances quickly at Regina, still in deep conversation with Snow White and not paying him an ounce of attention, then back to John's steady gaze.

With a deep inhale, oxygen filling his lungs, Robin admits to the confession that's been bouncing around in his mind all evening. "I think I might be falling in love with her."

It's liberating. Finally saying the words aloud. Giving voice to the emotion that has slowly but surely been building inside him since he'd first saved her and the princess from those abysmal flying monkeys. Growing with every encounter, setting up roots within the veins of his heart and blossoming into this confusing, yet familiar, emotion.

The infamous Robin Hood is falling for the Evil Queen.

Who would have thought it possible?

His friend pauses, bug eyed expression on his face that Robin has to bite back a chuckle at, as John drops the chicken leg he'd been about to bite into back onto his plate. "Are you bloody mad, Rob?"

Robin grins, his dimples displayed as deep crevices within his cheeks as his eyes settle over Regina once more. Just at that moment, her eyes whip from Snow's face to meet his. Deep brown on clear blue and a shiver runs through him. She's glaring at him, but there's something else, something deeper within those fascinating depths that only reinforces his belief in what he's said. He can see a hint of an emotion beneath the façade she shields herself with that Robin thinks his soul might recognize as being meant to connect with hers.

Just as quickly, she goes back to pointedly ignoring him, but it's enough to have Robin feeling lighter. Confused he may be. A fool, perhaps. But of one thing he is certain. Something about the queen draws her to him and he's determined to find out what it might be.

He tips back his mug, lets the ale slide over his tongue and down his throat before eyeing John's shocked expression once more and replying with a chuckle, "I've probably lost my mind."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: OQ Prompt Party continues with #172 Missing year. A drunken Regina confesses her attraction to Robin.**

She hates him.

Insufferable thief.

Common criminal.

Bothersome pest.

That's exactly what he is. A bug that should be squashed. Always buzzing around her, stumbling upon her at the most inconvenient of times when she wants nothing more than to be left alone. To have one damn minute where she doesn't have to pretend to be strong and alright when she is anything but. Where she doesn't have to be extra cautious about what she says because he is entirely too skilled at uncovering the hidden parts of herself.

Apparently today is not one of those days. And frankly, she's done giving a damn about anything. At least for the span of these twenty-four hours.

She hates him.

Hates those stupid dimples that make butterflies erupt in her stomach.

Hates the glint he gets in his eye when he smirks at her while they argue.

Hates that no matter what she does, how she pushes and insults, it doesn't seem to deter him in the slightest.

Of course all of it is a lie. She doesn't hate any of it. Not truly, if she's being honest with herself, but that's not something she'd ever admit to anyone. Particularly the thief. Well, not under normal circumstances at least.

Today's been a bad day. One where the grief over the loss of her son is crippling. A heavy weight that presses down on her chest, squeezing the heart Regina wishes desperately she could simply yank from her chest in a vice like grip.

It's Henry's birthday.

Her beautiful baby boy is another year older, another year wiser, rapidly growing into a young man and she's not there to witness it. He doesn't have a clue that she even exists. Remembers none of their traditions. Her waking him up with tickles and forehead kisses, making him his favorite breakfast of chocolate chip pancakes, a trip to the comic book store, a dozen chocolate frosted donuts instead of a cake. No matter what had been happening between them, even during those dark years, his birthday had always been a special day for them.

This is the first time in thirteen years she's not been present for it and the pain is unbearable.

She's been short and curt with everyone all day, rejecting Snow's soft words of hope and healing, glaring at Charming's pitying looks, scoffing at the comforting tea Granny brings her at lunch. All she wants is to scream and rage. To burn this entire castle, the whole damn realm, to the ground and have her little boy back. But that's impossible and Regina has turned to the only thing she can think of (short of ripping her own heart out) to numb the pain.

Alcohol.

On her fifth glass of whiskey, Regina is good and properly drunk when Robin stumbles across her in the library. She should have chosen to stay in her chambers to do this, where there is privacy and little chance anyone could interrupt her pity party. The large room had seemed too cold and empty today, however, and she'd sought out solace anywhere she could. Not shockingly, studious Regina had turned to the room where she could be surrounded by hundreds of leather bound books, the scent of them comforting in an odd sort of familiarity.

"Milady," Robin starts, as he wanders into the room, though he is cut off by her curt and slurred, _Get out, thief,_ before he can say more. Silently, he takes in the scene before him, assessing the situation before he does the exact opposite and settles into a seat beside her.

With a huff, Regina groans. "Have you lost your hearing as well as your sense? Not that you've shown much of them up to this point." She takes another gulp of the amber liquid, letting it burn down her throat, scoring away the pain. "Tell me, is there a brain in that pretty head of yours?"

She doesn't notice her slip up, the omission that she might find him attractive, but it forces Robin to fight a smirk from settling over his features. "One should never drink alone, milady." Robin says simply, reaching for the decanter and pouring himself two fingers into a crystal glass on the table.

Regina watches as he brings it to his lips, studies the way his Adam's apple bobs in his throat as he swallows and she has to fight the sharp pang of lust that spears through her at the sight. Licking her lips, she frowns and takes another deep sip, scowling at the table rather than look at him.

Maybe if she ignores him he'll go away. Not that that method has ever worked for her in the past. Something she doesn't understand in the slightest. With the whiskey pumping through her veins, loosening her tongue, her eyes lift back up to gaze at Robin as if he's a puzzle to be solved.

"Why do you care?" Her tone is harsh, sharper than she had intended it to be, but suddenly she has to know. Her emotions are raw, stretched thin, especially today of all days and her confusing feelings for the thief are the last straw, crumbling what's left of her resolve to present the strong and invincible queen.

Robin doesn't answer immediately, dropping his gaze from hers and Regina swears she sees him blush, a bright flush rising up his neck and along his cheeks. He bites at his bottom lip as he meets her eyes again and Regina has to shift in her seat, crossing her legs as heat suddenly pools between her thighs. The image is both endearing and arousing all at once and it only muddles her mixed emotions more.

Clearing his throat and taking another sip of whiskey, Robin replies a touch hesitantly, "I don't like to see people in pain, Your Majesty." He's twirling the glass on the table, balancing it on its edge and rolling it this way and that way. Then his deep blue eyes lift and he meets Regina's gaze head on, an emotion she doesn't know how to decipher in his eyes as he says, "If you'd let me, I'd like to be someone that can help ease your heartache."

It's too real. Too intense. Much, much too close to something that feels like vulnerability she can't allow herself here, in this place that holds nothing but painful memories for her, for him to be saying such things to her.

Regina knocks back the remainder of the whiskey in her glass in one gulp, tipping her head back and allowing the liquid to burn down her throat. Heating the chilled recesses inside her, if only for a moment, before the cold returns. She reaches to pour more, refilling her glass immediately as she tries to process what Robin's said.

He doesn't mean it. No one ever does.

Even if his tone is soft and gentle. Seductive.

Taking another sip, her lips going numb as more of the alcohol finds its way into her system, Regina frowns at him, tilting her head and replying. "Clearly the bathing in the river and nothing but grotesque men for company has impaired your senses."

Robin chuckles, drowns some of his own whiskey and counters, "I think you might just like me beneath all the insults, Your Majesty."

"What makes you think you know me so well?" Her head is fuzzy, spinning a bit, both from the man sitting beside her and the whiskey that pumps through her veins.

Smirking, Robin answers evenly, "Well, I'd be charred to a crisp by now if you didn't," pleased when Regina's beautiful laugh erupts from her throat.

Inhibitions be damned, she needs something, _anything_ to distract her from the pain of losing her son forever. And inappropriate flirting with a man she can not stand ( _Lies,_ her inebriated mind whispers to her) seems as good as any.

She purrs a bit as she says it, leaning forward and giving Robin an ample view of the swells of her breasts spilling out over the edge of her corset. He licks his suddenly dry lips and Regina laughs again, feeling powerful and in control for the first time all day. "Are you attracted to me, thief?"

Robin's gaze travels over her. Her glassy eyes, twinkling with mirth and concealed heartache, the long, dark, luscious locks that fall over her shoulders in loose waves, her plump, red lips, and leather clad body. Even with the pain that radiates off her in waves, in the little line between her brows, the stiffness of her shoulders, she is gorgeous. "You are the most stunning creature I've had the pleasure of knowing, Regina."

The use of her name, one she rarely allows him, makes Regina shiver. She could take him. Right here. Right now. Climb into his lap and rock her hips against his. Regina is now certain her advances would be welcomed, that the outlaw would happily allow her to use his body as the distraction she's looking for. Images of his hands stroking over her, ripping her clothing from her body as he devours her, assault her mind and Regina bites her lip a touch knowingly as Robin studies her quietly.

But that would not be wise. Not in the least.

Speaking up in the lull of conversation, Robin turns the tables on her. Not all that unexpectedly, but Regina is surprised by his boldness nonetheless. "Now the curious question is if you're attracted to _me_?"

Robin's question distracts her for a minute and she sits a bit taller, focusing on drawing air in and out of her lungs and using the glass of whiskey in her hand to give her a minute before answering.

The answer is obvious of course, but she's spent so long denying it, fighting that feeling that it's not her natural inclination to relent. However, she's drunk and heartbroken, and Regina can't help but flirt with him, responding with a sassy, "Maybe I am. What are you going to do about it, thief?"

Robin smiles at her. There's triumph in his eyes. She's admitted to being attracted to him, acknowledged this simmering passion that has threatened to overtake them at every turn since they'd met. Sexual tension has been the foundation for every one of their interactions over the last several months and both of them have just given voice to it.

Surely he'll kiss her, lay those tempting lips over hers and allow Regina to lose herself in something elemental and physical for a little while.

He merely gives her a small smile and says, "I'm going to escort you back to your chambers, milady."

Oh, such a promising statement, one that shoots sparks through her limbs in anticipation. Robin shocks her when he finishes his thought with a quiet, "And shall leave you to hopefully a peaceful and dreamless sleep. It appears you've had quite a bit of whiskey to aid in your slumber this evening. Allow me to lead you to bed?"

Regina stares at him, stunned. It had not been what she'd been expecting. _Lead her to bed indeed._ Apparently, not in the way she had allowed herself to imagine for those few minutes. Part of her wants to scoff at his presumptuous suggestion, to remind him that she does not need to be _taken care of_. Weariness drags at her very being, however, and she's drunk and tired. Hurting more than she ever thought was possible and a part of her leaps at the notion that he apparently cares enough not to take advantage of her in her impaired state. Even if he does obviously want her.

Gathering up her courage, Regina drinks the last of the amber liquid in her glass, slamming it back on the table and turning to Robin. "Fine. You may."

It's not much, but it's a tiny victory. Progress. And Robin revels in the feeling.

Standing, he holds out a hand to her, waiting for her to either reject or accept him. Regina stares at it for a minute, the edges of her vision only slightly blurring as she gently places her palm on top of Robin's open one, ignoring the sparks that ignite as their skin touches, and allows him to lead her out of the library.

One step forward, two steps back. That's the game they play. But in the quiet of the castle as their footfalls echo through the corridors, it feels like they just might be making progress.

Until Regina regains her senses come morning that is.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: OQ Prompt Party! Here's #** ** **67 Robin can't explain the feelings he has for Regina. One night he overhears a very drunk Regina and Tinkerbell (Tink already knows that it's Robin and drops a few hints without giving him away) talking about the man with the lion tattoo and it all starts making sense.****

He hadn't meant to eavesdrop. Not truly.

Robin had been restless. Lying awake in his bed, tossing and turning with thoughts of Regina and their argument from earlier playing over and over in his mind.

" _Regina!" he calls frustratingly after her, chasing her down the hallway where she is tearing off toward the library._

" _It's Your Majesty!" she yells back, coming to an abrupt halt and spinning on her heel to face Robin again. Her chest rising and falling with her quick breathing, anger and irritation making those chocolate eyes of hers light up like fire._

 _Robin admires it as much as he wants to shake her for it. But it at least gives him the chance to catch up to her, coming to a halt a mere foot before her and crossing his arms over his chest. "We are not finished discussing this," he tells her firmly, immobile in his resolve._

 _Glaring, Regina spits out through gritted teeth, "Yes. We. Are. I am going after her. End of story." She's finished with this. Her damn sister threatening them at every turn, keeping all of them on alert. Her frazzled emotions have reached their tattered end, threads ripping and fraying around the seams. Just like she is. She can't take it anymore. Has to do_ something. _And the last thing she needs is the damn thief who makes her feel things she refuses to experience again interfering._

" _I beg to differ, milady. You may have stormed out of the council meeting, but the matter is far from settled." He frowns at her, struggles against the desire to run his palms up and down her arms, to massage along her tense and rigid shoulders and ease some of the burden she insists on carrying all on her own. Robin knows better though. Is certain that his advances would not be met with acceptance. Despite her drunken confession of her attraction to him on her son's birthday. "It's dangerous, going off alone and half cocked, and I won't allow it."_

 _Regina scoffs bitterly at that, nostrils flaring as she narrows her eyes at him. "Won't allow it? What the hell makes you think you have the right to_ allow _me anything at all. You're nothing but a common thief."_

 _He bows his head, shifts on his feet a bit but doesn't budge on his stance as Robin mutters, "I have no right. None at all." Robin pauses, his gaze steady on Regina's, allowing her to see the naked truth of his next words. "None other than that I care about you, Regina. And I will not watch you throw your life away."_

 _Shock flickers over her features, quickly replaced by a scowl, but it's not quite as fierce as he is sure she thinks it to be. Not to him at least. "You're a fool, Robin Hood, and I will not be held responsible for your ridiculous emotions."_

 _Robin huffs in frustration, planting his hands on either side of his hips. "Maybe I am, but you running off without the proper support will result in nothing but a victory for the witch."_

 _She scowls at him, seethes almost. "How dare you question me! I am stronger than my sister and she will_ not _win this fight."_

" _For god sake, I'm trying to protect you!" Robin exclaims, irritation and concern muddling together and making him reckless, poking the fierce creature he knows the queen can be._

" _I don't want your protection!"_

 _Robin growls, a deep and gurgling sound in the back of his throat. "You exasperating woman!" Something inside him snaps. The fragile hold Robin's kept on his emotions, the depth of feeling he has for this woman spills over and suddenly patience is a thing of the past._

 _His fingers thread through her hair, those long, dark locks that he's dreamed of running his hands through over and over again. His palms are warm against her cheeks, cupping them affectionately even in his frustration, and before either one of them have a chance to think about the consequences of his actions, he swoops his mouth down on hers._

 _The kiss is hot and wet. His lips insistent and firm as he holds her in place, angling his head to deepen the kiss. At first he's met with nothing but a stunned reaction from Regina, zero response, but within a matter of a few seconds, she's answering his physical plea. Her mouth opens for him and Robin is quick to sweep his tongue through her mouth. Tasting wine and the sweet tang of something fruity, with the overwhelming taste of Regina herself dominating all other sensations._

 _Her arms band around his shoulders automatically, that sinful body of hers pressing against his, molding to his own and fitting perfectly. Just as Robin knew they would. His head spins, quickly depleting itself of all oxygen, but he refuses to break the kiss. Gasps into Regina's mouth and dives in for more and more._

 _God, she tastes amazing. Perfect. Everything that he's ever imagined and she's driving him wild. The woman makes him absolutely insane, but they belong together. Robin feels it in his bones, within the depths of his heart and soul, and this only confirms it._

 _Regina moans into his mouth, deep and low, and it shoots a fierce pang of desire straight to Robin's cock. Without stopping to consider his actions, he begins backing her up the few feet necessary until her back meets the rough stone of the castle wall. Robin slips his hand around to cup the back of her head, cradling it from the harsh rock, his mouth never leaving hers._

 _She arches her back into his chest, rubbing her tantalizing breasts against him, and Robin groans and rocks his hips into hers. It seems now that he's finally gotten a sampling of her, he's lost all sense. Both of them are relegated into a puddle of helpless hormones they've denied themselves for far too long._

 _Unable to prevent himself from seeking out as much of her as he can, one of his hands skims down her side, settling along her hip as his fingers dig slightly into her soft skin. His mouth ventures away from her luscious lips to trail wet kisses up her jaw, sucking for a moment at her earlobe and then down the side of her neck and back up again. Settling along the sensitive skin just below her jaw._

 _Just as he feared, the separation of his lips from hers is what does it. Reality dousing them both with a cold bucket of water as Regina realizes the position they are in. Harshly, she shoves her hands against Robin's shoulders, forcing him several steps back as she glares at him._

 _Her lips are red and swollen from their kisses, and she's panting slightly, attempting to draw air into her lungs. Utterly breathtaking is what she is. Robin reaches out a hand to touch her, but is halted with quick whip of her hand, frozen in place with her magic._

" _Do not touch me, thief."_

" _Regina—" Robin pleads, his eyes soft as he looks at her._

 _She silences him again, closing her fist in an angry movement. "This conversation is over. I am the only one with the power to defeat my sister and that's exactly what I shall do." Her breathing is still coming in heavy gasps, her skin flushed slightly from their activities and she glares at him. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some research to do." Regina narrows her eyes, expression that Robin is sure she'd perfected as the Evil Queen seething back at him as she orders, "Do. Not. Follow. Me."_

With that she'd been gone and Robin had been too shaken by the experience to follow her again. He'd talk some sense into her later, once they'd both cooled down and recovered a bit. Would insist that she allow him to accompany her on whatever foolish mission she's decided she must go on alone, whether she wants his help or not.

So he'd sought out comfort in the form of a snack, sneaking quickly and quietly through the deserted hallways of the castle to the kitchen hoping for a bit of bread or cheese to nibble on, perhaps a warm glass of milk, before returning to his bed and another likely sleepless night.

He'd just been about to shove his way through the kitchen door when he'd heard them. Their voices floating to him through the crack in the door and stopping him in his tracks. Robin recognizes the husky lilt of Regina's voice instantly, his body stiffening immediately in reaction to the sound. It takes him another few seconds before the second female voice, light and airy, registers with him. Tinkerbell.

The tentative and sometimes volatile friendship between the queen and the fairy has given him pause on some occasions. They're unlikely allies, after all, but the knowledge that Regina has someone to turn to if necessary, someone else that clearly cares about her, comforts Robin. Especially when she refuses to allow him to fulfil that role.

Robin should turn around the second he realizes that the kitchen is occupied. After their scene this morning, he's quite sure he's the last person Regina wants to see at the moment. But as he hears the clink of glasses and registers the subtle slurring of Regina's words, he seems to be rooted on the spot, unable to move away. Instead he stands there silently, barely breathing as he listens to the two women's conversation.

"Why are you bringing this up, Tinkerbell? It's ancient history. I've already ruined your life once because of it. Surely you've learned your lesson by now. Or maybe you really are just a useless moth who doesn't know when to give up."

Her words are harsh, but Robin recognizes the mild hint of fear beneath the tone. At this point, he knows Regina far, far better than she would have him. And still, she refuses to acknowledge the fact that he cares for her. That despite her best efforts, she feels something for him as well. Flashes from their earlier encounter move to the forefront of his thoughts once more and Robin sighs silently in exasperation.

It's not how he would have wanted their first kiss to go. He'd hoped they'd be in a better place when it occurred. Blind frustration had overwhelmed him and caused him to act hastily, rooted in emotion rather than logic. Though he's coming to realize there is no logic in his feelings towards the queen.

Tinkerbell's voice sounds equally drunk, and the echo of glasses lifted and set down on wood continues to serve as muted background noise to their conversation. He can only assume they've broken into the generous wine reserve of the castle. Or perhaps something stronger. Whiskey or brandy. Either way, it's clear both women have been indulging.

"I just think it's important not to give up hope, Regina. Especially when things appear so bleak. He's still out there. You can still find him."

A quick spurt of jealously gushes up in Robin's gut. What is she talking about? _Who_ is she talking about? The very thought of Regina being with anyone else leaves a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. He may not understand what's happening between them, might not have a clue how to get her to open her heart to him, but he knows that there's something between them.

And he will not be thwarted before he even has a chance to truly explore what they could have together. If only he could make Regina see reason.

Regina's voice is dark and dismal as she responds, "I don't have time to go chasing after some fairy tale I never even wanted to be a part of, Tinkerbell. Besides, I don't want _true love_." She says the words as if they were a nasty disease, one meant to be shunned and turned out. It breaks Robin's heart to think any part of her might believe what she's saying. For he knows the sentiment is rooted in the belief she doesn't deserve it and it's anything but the truth.

"The only love I need is that of my son." Her voice breaks, almost imperceptibly, but Robin is so attuned to the subtle inflections of her tone of voice, he catches it. "And he's gone. Lost to me. There is no hope."

Her companion sighs. "All I'm saying is that the man with the lion tattoo is still out there, it might not be too late for you to find your happy ending, Regina. Even without Henry. Pixie dust led you to him once, showed that you were destined to be together. He's your soulmate and he could be closer than you realize, but not if you aren't open to the possibility."

The fairy's words hit him like a ton of bricks and Robin instantly grasps a hand over his right forearm, covering the crest of a lion that is inked into his skin. A symbol from his long ago past. Could she be talking about him?

Words echo through his mind, bouncing back and forth within his cranium.

 _Pixie Dust._

 _Destined to be together._

 _True love._

 _Soulmate._

Suddenly, the desperate and immediate pull he's felt toward the exasperating, stubborn, _stunning_ woman on the other side of this door, being treated to her own drunken lecture from a fairy, begins to make more sense. Various pieces of the conundrum that is Regina Mills that have been weighing on Robin's mind for months begin to click into place.

He doesn't understand everything that's been said, isn't sure what the blonde means by this missed opportunity. He's never crossed paths with the queen before she and her clan had returned to the Enchanted Forest. But just the knowledge that he's not crazy, that there's a reason he feels this inexplicable longing for the woman sets his mind and heart at ease.

 _Destined to be together… Soulmates…_

Words that should frighten him, or, at the very least, give Robin pause have the exact opposite effect on him. He feels heat rise up within him, his heart swelling as he realizes that it will all be fine. That if Tinkerbell's implications are to be believed, eventually things will work out for them.

Perhaps it's all about timing.

Leaving the pair to their drunken conversation, and grinning slightly to himself as he catches the whispers of Regina grumbling to her friend over the entire matter some more, Robin retreats back down the corridor silently and returns to his room. As he settles back into his pillows and sheets, a calm sense of rightness washes over him. Where before he'd been unable to settle his mind, Robin now falls asleep with ease, visions of a life built with Regina lulling him into slumber.


End file.
